


Leaving On A Jet Plane

by theweddingofthefoxes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Airport life, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Swearing, heavily implied past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 23:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweddingofthefoxes/pseuds/theweddingofthefoxes
Summary: Matt and Bren (Techie) are coming home from their honeymoon -- and the airport is not a place Bren likes very much. Luckily, Matt is there to help.





	Leaving On A Jet Plane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darcydent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcydent/gifts).



> A companion piece to Any Surface. Read that first for more context, but it's not necessary to enjoy this story!

There were a great many things that annoyed Matt -- traffic that moved so slowly it'd be faster to just walk, people who dawdled at the ATM or blocked entire grocery aisles with their carts, single-ply toilet paper. But for some reason, the airport never seemed to bother him the way other little things could set him off. Most people he knew hated every moment of the flying process, but not Matt -- he loved the people-watching, seeing the planes coming and going, speculating on where folks were coming from or going to. He liked overhearing conversations at the airport bar about upcoming trips to Dublin and Barcelona and Santa Fe. He even liked the dumb, expensive shops full of candy and magazines and T-shirts with city names splashed across the front. 

Clearly, though, Bren didn't _quite_ share that sentiment.

"Oh," Bren said as they hung a left into a Starbucks so Matt could get a mocha frap. "Gosh, it's so busy today, isn't it?"

The only time Bren had been to an airport before today was when they left for their honeymoon to San Juan, and they'd happened to pick a day that, to Matt, anyway, was pretty low-traffic. But if that day had been slow, the trip home was pulling double duty. Flight attendants in crisp uniforms and towering black high heels power-walked past them, and Bren had nearly been run over a couple times by families with rolling luggage as big as trash cans. The Starbucks pit stop wasn't just to caffeinate; it was to give Bren a break, too. 

"We're almost to our gate, don't worry," Matt reassured him as they stood by the pick-up counter, patting Bren's back the way a T-ball coach might reassure a little slugger who couldn't manage to hit the target. "And then all we have to do is get in our seats and then wait for a couple hours and then we'll be home!" He twirled a lock of Bren's hair, spaghetti-like, around his finger. "Did you have fun, baby?"

Bren's smile, which had hardly gone away all week but which had gone missing the moment they stepped inside the doorway of the airport, returned once more. "What a question!" he laughed. "Of course I did. This was -- maybe the best week of my whole entire life."

"Better than finals week at grad school?" Matt teased, and Bren made an exaggerated yucky face.

"No comparison."

"That's all I can ask for."

Matt's name was called, his drink was handed over, and even though Bren had insisted he didn't want anything, he still expected to get a sip. Matt sighed with mock-irritation. "I _need_ this," he grumbled, poking Bren's shoulder. "My allotment of sugar is very important."

"You got so much! You'll never notice it's gone," Bren giggled, stealing a fingertip's worth of whipped cream off the top before handing it back to him. The giggles died away, though, when they reached their gate and he saw that the screen read:

**Delayed**

"Delayed?"

"It happens a lot, don't worry," Matt said, realizing just how spoiled they had been with their trip into Puerto Rico. That one had gone like clockwork, so Bren had no idea that it ever went any other way. "If the weather is bad at home, or there's a technical issue, or all kinds of things..."

"Technical issue? But it's safe, right?" 

"Oh, god, honey, of course. Of course it's safe. That's exactly why things get delayed, you know? They'd rather make you wait and make sure everything is perfect then just go..." Bren still looked a little worked up, but not as bad as he could have been. They sat down at the wide window ledge not far from the gate agent's desk, with good proximity to a charger, though both ports were already in use -- a middle-aged couple charging their phones. "Anyway. We'll get comfy here, okay?"

Bren looked a little doubtful that they could get comfortable in such a strange, crowded place, but Matt soon convinced him it was possible, bundling him against the high-powered AC in a hoodie that Armitage had gotten for Bren from his alma mater (making certain not to reveal Bren's lingerie to the entirety of Gate A6 while he retrieved it), plying him with candy and cold cuts from the newsstand, and going through his phone to look back on some of his favorite pictures of Bren from the week. "This might just have to be my new background," he declared as Bren nibbled on a Crunch bar, nestled against Matt's shoulder. It was a shot of Bren standing by the edge of a waterfall, his hair tied back in a messy bun, a shy little smile on his face, his eyes full of wonder at the whole of the rainforest around them. "What do you think?"

"Mmm, I think you got a good shot," Bren answered, pleased. "If _I_ like it, you know it's good."

"They're all good, goofy."

"Stop..." Bren drew out the 'aw' sound of it, impish and pleased. "I already made one of you my background."

"Oh yeah?"

"You sleeping on the beach."

"Oh, no, I don't even want to see it..."

"No, you look great! Sleeping beauty, that's what you are."

Their banter continued into the evening, as the sky outside the airport went deep blue, then black, and the stars began to grow more and more visible. Bren had talked himself out by the time it was fully dark, and he spent a long while listening to music through the nice headphones he'd gotten himself as a reward for getting hired at a tech firm. It didn't bother Matt at all -- he just cleared out his email inbox and caught up on texts, cuddling Bren close under one arm, while they waited their delay out. He was just about to offer Bren the liquidy remainder of his frappuccino when he saw Bren's eyes were shut and his mouth was open, a tiny spot of drool spotting Matt's shirt. 

Not in Matt's wildest hopes did he imagine Bren could fall asleep somewhere so busy and full of strange people. Bren wasn't exactly shy -- he liked to meet new people, especially when they came recommended by those he trusted, like Armitage, or Matt himself. But unfamiliar surroundings could definitely faze him, especially if there were adults around who were audibly angry, and the airport had no shortage of people losing their temper. It reminded Bren too much of his parents, whose anger was so bright and unpredictable that it still had an effect on him, even years after he had cut them out of his life. Matt had long ago adjusted his own reactions to things for Bren's sake-- things like slamming doors and smacking walls were bad habits of his that scared the living daylights out of Bren, and scaring Bren scared Matt, so he'd worked hard to find other outlets for his temper. He'd picked up boxing instead and found that he really liked it, and now getting so upset seemed distant and childish. If only the rest of the world would do the same...

Sure enough, Bren had been out for about half an hour when someone came up to the gate to complain about the length of the wait, the man who had been charging his phone near Matt and Bren when they'd first sat down. Every effort the gate agent made to reassure him that they'd be boarding no more than an hour from then only made him more frustrated. 

"It's going to be another _hour_?"

"At the maximum, we'll be sure to update--"

"Jesus _Christ_!"

The gate agent was a woman in her forties, stern-faced and clearly no novice at this game. Her expression hardly changed as the man practically shouted in her face, but Bren's did. Matt had been hoping the thick, comfortable, well-made headphones would block out the sound of the exchange, but from the look of things, Bren could still hear something distant, and maybe that was worse, because maybe he couldn't tell it wasn't directed at him. Matt tightened his hold on Bren, tucking his phone into his pocket.

"So are we getting some kind of refund, then?" the man wanted to know.

"Your flight has not been canceled, only delayed," the woman intoned, tapping her lacquered nails against the counter. "It is not this airline's policy to issue refunds for flights that are not canceled. You will be reaching your destination within three hours of the original arrival time."

"Well, you say that now, and God knows you're going to say some other goddamned thing in an hour when it gets delayed _again_."

"Gene," the woman that Matt could only assume was his wife snapped, sounding just as cross as he did. "For Christ's sake, give it a rest. You're embarrassing yourself."

"I paid good money to fly home, not to sit in the airport the whole goddamned night!"

Most people didn't seem to be taking this guy's ridiculous volume particularly seriously, least of all the gate agent and the man's wife. A few people were snickering, but mostly everyone else ignored him. Bren, though, let out a little whimper in his sleep, and Matt held on even tighter, gritting his teeth to resist the urge to get up and stuff this guy in a trash can. Well, it seemed possible the guy would get the what-for from his wife, and he didn't want to jostle Bren, who seemed to be coming up to the surface of wakefulness, confused and frightened.

Matt gently pried the headphones off Bren's ears so he could speak to him in a low, steady voice. "You all right, sweet thing?"

Bren shook his head, but it seemed almost like he hadn't heard or understood the question. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes blinking rapidly against the fluorescent light. "I'm sorry."

"Honey, there's nothing to be sorry for."

"Can we go? Can we go home?"

"We're getting on the plane soon, okay?"

Bren's eyes managed to stay open, though they were glassy and painful-looking, ringed in red. "The plane. Okay, right. Sorry."

"It's okay," Matt told him, adjusting the headphones so Bren could lean more comfortably against him. He'd learned long ago that telling Bren not to apologize would only result in more apologies. A different tactic was necessary. "Really, truly, I promise it's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Mmmhm, just people being shitty to the gate agent." He didn't care if the grumpy guy hears him, but it seemed he had wandered off to get pissed that the McDonald's nearby was closing for the night. "You can go back to sleep on the plane, knock out the whole ride home."

Bren's hands were cold and clammy, but when he squeezed Matt's hand, Matt squeezed back. "You have that pillow, right?"

"Yep. Do you want it now?"

"No, I'll--wait til we're on the plane, but--thanks, Mattie, thank you for just -- thinking of all the stuff I need. And I am--I'm sorry for, um. Being like this in public."

"Are you kidding me?" Matt asked, giving a soft, good-natured little laugh. "Bren, the person who needs to be sorry for being like that in public is that jackass who was doing the yelling."

Bren ran his thumb in circles against Matt's hand like he was moving a character around with a video game controller, and to Matt's relief, he gave a little smile. "Yeah, that's--who does that? That's the worst."

"Leave that shit at home."

"Yeah," Bren agreed, sleepy. "Leave it at home."

Matt pressed a kiss to Bren's head, overwhelmed with how cute his _husband_ was. "What are we going to do now that we're married but our honeymoon is over?" he asked. "Be that disgusting couple everyone pretends to hate but is secretly jealous of?"

"Mattie, I've made like a million sappy Instagram posts on this trip. We already _are_."

"Let's make it worse."

"Let's," Bren agreed, yawning. Matt was just about to tell him to try and catch a few minutes more of sleep on his shoulder when the gate agent, still cool as a cucumber, came over the PA to inform them that they could begin lining up, the plane had arrived to take them home. "But first, let's go home?"

"Sounds like a plan." 

Karma, it seemed, had intervened, and the noisy grouch was seated in the very back of the plane while Bren and Matt got the relative luxury of seats 4A and 4B. The flight was full, but the deeply tanned young woman who was in 4C was pleasant and wanted to know if the two of them were coming home from an anniversary trip -- the couple vibe must have been coming off in powerful waves.

"Honeymoon, actually," Matt said, unable to help his grin, as Bren adjusted his neck pillow and then scooted as close as the seat would allow to Matt's shoulder. 

"Shut up, that's so sweet! My sister just had a destination wedding here, I'm coming home from that. I never cared that much about weddings until I saw people who were so, so in love get married. She and her husband, they're the real deal. You guys look just the same."

How could that compliment be topped, Matt wondered, what was better than total strangers knowing how much he and Bren loved each other. "You're really kind," he said, knowing he was blushing. "I'll remember that for a long time."

In fact, he thought about it for the entirety of the flight, Bren sound asleep again, the neck pillow soft against Matt's upper arm as they glided over the sea, heading home to their own apartment, their real lives, which had gotten so much better since the other one had entered it.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the story that darcydent won via my latest giveaway! I was asked for tooth-rotting fluff and hurt/comfort in a continuation of Any Surface, and I hope I delivered. Thanks to everyone for reading!


End file.
